just imagining Thalia and Percy introducing Nico to Green Day. Nico instantly likes it.
nico absorbs literally anything percy introduces him to 🙂↕️ he’s proficient on a skateboard too bc of that. little sibling emulating his older siblings as best he can bc he thinks they’re so cool 🙂↕️🙂↕️ he’ll be in the car with percy and a song will come on the radio and percy starts tapping on the wheel and bopping his head to the beat and nico is immediately adding the song to his playlist
he adds a lot more metal to his look to look like thalia. he’s so mad he doesn’t have a shield like them. thalia got hers from her father and percy got his from his brother. where’s nico’s shield :( percy and thalia try their best to make him one themselves but it comes out so lumpy and shoddy and straight buns and it will NOT protect nico one bit but he loves it
Summary: “You’re going to be okay,” Jason said gently. “You lost a lot of blood, but once we got you to the infirmary, it was nothing a little nectar and a blood transfusion couldn’t fix.”
But Thalia wasn’t okay. None of this was okay.
The wrongness of it all settled deep in her bones as her brother spoke. She could tell his smile was strained, but he spoke with this strange calm, as if to soothe her. Her little brother was trying to comfort her.
Or: Thalia gets hurt on a mission, and wakes up to Jason sitting at her bedside. She has some… complicated feelings about it, to say the least.
Written for @rrverseflashfics: Care
This takes place in the same universe as the choiceless hope in grief, but you do not need to have read that fic to understand this one! The main things you need to know are just that Leo went and did the Orpheus and Eurydice thing with Jason, and Jason and Leo are currently staying at the Waystation!
———
Thalia woke up thoroughly disoriented. This was, at least in parts, due to the fact that she had no memory of falling asleep. She tried to make sense of her hazy surroundings and hazier recollection of past events.
The last thing she vividly remembered was their final standoff with the Teumessian Fox, assisting Laelaps in catching his ancient foe. She remembered Piper moving towards the beasts—fearless despite the fact that she did not even have Artemis’ blessing to protect her, wielding nothing but the power of her words.
It hadn’t been enough. They’d needed a distraction.
Thalia could do distractions.
She had arrows and lightning bolts and her shield Aegis, and she’d wielded them all without hesitation. The monster hadn’t been thrilled, immediately retaliating with claws and teeth.
She remembered the pain, dulled as it had been by the layers of her armor and the rush of adrenaline. She remembered thinking that it didn’t matter if she was hurt, so long as the distraction had been enough.
And it had been. It had been enough for Piper’s voice to do the rest. To remind the beast how it had missed its ancient foe and their endless chase across the stars. This world was too small to contain them. But the universe was vast, and it was theirs to return to.
And so they had. The fox never meant to be caught had turned to glittering dust, a streak of gold moving through the night sky to take back its rightful place among the constellations. Laelaps had followed soon after, welcoming a final affectionate petting from Reyna before it had chased after the Teumessian Fox.
Thalia had still barely felt the pain at the time. She’d been too preoccupied making sure the other hunters were unharmed, especially since she’d lost track of Iphigenia during the fight.
Despite the immediate danger being over, the adrenaline had kept her on her feet a while longer after that. The chase had gone on for months, and after so much time spent barely able to mitigate the destruction the Teumessian Fox had caused, her body took a while to process the fact that the danger was well and truly dealt with.
But then the memories grew hazy around the edges. They were snippets, like a film reel that had been exposed to too much light, half the sections faded beyond recognition.
Thalia remembered traveling, but couldn’t remember where they’d traveled. She remembered the warm, slick feel of blood against her fingers. She remembered sitting against a wall, breathing growing increasingly harder. There was only inky blackness afterwards.
There was no more darkness now. She blinked hard, struggling to get her eyes to adjust to the harsh light of the room she was in.
“You’re awake.” Thalia spent several seconds trying and failing to place the voice. “Thank the gods, Lia. For a second, I thought…”
A hand slipped into hers, cold fingers squeezing hers.
Thalia didn’t need to recognize the voice, then. There was only one person in the world who called her Lia.
It was the first word her little brother had ever spoken. Despite his best efforts, that had been the only part of her name he’d been able to pronounce at the time. Even through all of their devastating losses of each other, it had stuck.
“Jay?” Her voice came out brittle.
“You’re going to be okay,” Jason said gently. “You lost a lot of blood, but once we got you to the infirmary, it was nothing a little nectar and a blood transfusion couldn’t fix.”
But Thalia wasn’t okay. None of this was okay.
The wrongness of it all settled deep in her bones as her brother spoke. She could tell his smile was strained, but he spoke with this strange calm, as if to soothe her. Her little brother was trying to comfort her.
She hated this. Hated that he felt the need to comfort her when, as the older sibling, the comforting should have been her job. Hated that she had not recognized him by his voice. Hated that she should have known it immediately, but did not. Hated knowing that, had it been Annabeth, she would have known her, no matter how dizzy and disoriented she felt.
The thought of letting herself love Annabeth like a sister had felt like a betrayal of Jason’s memory in the early days. She had failed one little sibling, and there she’d been, opening her heart to another. Teaching her to fight and survive when she hadn’t been able to save the first person whose life had ever depended on her. Dark hair intricately braided between her fingers when Jason’s had never had the chance to grow past his shoulders. Listening to her stories and seeing her be foolish and brave and fierce in ways Jason had never gotten to be. It had been a kindness and a cruelty, to know Annabeth—this little sister she had not looked for but had found regardless—in a way she’d never known her brother.
But then Thalia had died, and miraculously, both of her siblings had lived. And sometime in her absence, both Jason and Annabeth had outgrown her. Her little sister had grown accustomed to no longer needing her, and Thalia wasn’t even sure her little brother remembered ever needing her at all.
Jason’s hand squeezed hers a little tighter. Thalia remembered what his tiny hand had felt like in hers, back when she’d been nine and Jason had been two. She had clung to the memory in its stead once she no longer had that hand to take in hers. But this hand was no longer the same she’d held as a child. His hand was larger than hers now, and it didn’t have the same fragile softness she remembered. It was strong from years of wielding weapons, and scarred from fights Thalia had not been privy to.
It wasn’t just that she hadn’t recognized his voice in an instant the way any halfway decent older sister should. There was so much about Jason that she didn’t know. Thalia had grieved her brother twice, but she hadn’t truly known him even once.
She didn’t know where to even start with that. Didn’t know how to be an older sister outside of trying her best to protect her younger siblings—a job that she couldn’t help but feel like she had failed at miserably.
She didn’t know how to say any of that. She tried to will the water out of her eyes, to will her voice to steady. “How long was I out?”
“It’s Monday, almost three pm. You were out for a full day,” Jason said softly, his big hand trembling in hers.
“You have lacrosse training on Monday afternoons,” Thalia realized, alarmed.
Jason blinked owlishly at her. “I- what?”
“You love lacrosse,” she said softly. “You should be at training.”
“Lia, forget about lacrosse for a second, you could have died!” Jason snapped, staring at her with a distraught expression. “Lacrosse will still be there for me next week, but I… I had to be sure you would be, too, okay?”
“Jay…”
She was startled when she realized he was crying.
She’d barely known her little brother—that tiny, vulnerable bundle full of warm, fussy baby that had been pressed into her arms at seven years old and that she’d sworn to herself to never let go—any other way. He’d had a strong pair of lungs and voiced his upset loudly, even when Thalia desperately tried to shush him so he wouldn’t wake their easily upset mother. His cries had grown softer as a toddler, once he’d started to understand and fear what would happen if their mom got mad, but he’d still spent so much time clinging to her, tears muffled against her nightgown.
She hadn’t ever seen this Jason cry. He’d had to be a strong leader at Camp Jupiter for so long that a part of her had feared he’d utterly unlearned how. But here he was, crying over her, of all things.
“I can’t lose you,” Jason said with a quiet, trembling voice. “Not again.”
Thalia say up slowly, ignoring the way her injured side protested. It felt more like a giant bruise than anything now—not life-threatening, just a serious pain in the ass—but even if it had been worse than that, she didn’t think she would have cared. Her little brother was crying, and the only thing she wanted was to pull him close and hold him and tell him everything would be okay until at least one of them believed it.
Jason looked hesitantly at her bandages, but she held up her arms, and he collapsed into her. He was much too big to cry into her chest now, but he sobbed fiercely into her shoulder, and he still fit into her arms all the same.
“I’m right here,” she told him, and she was fifteen and twenty and nine years old, all at the same time. Her voice wasn’t steady now. She could feel the way her eyes were watering, a few stray tears dripping down into Jason’s hair and she gently pressed a kiss to the top of his head, the way she hadn’t since he’d been a toddler. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
They both knew she couldn’t actually promise that, but Jason didn’t protest. He accepted her gentle reassurances with the same ease he had as a child—and even then, he’d known some of them were untrue. The fact of the matter was that things weren’t magically going to be okay just because your big sister told you they would be—but his willingness to believe her had always made the impossible things she promised seem slightly more possible.
They’d both gone places before where the other couldn’t follow. They had no illusions about what the reality of their lives looked like—couldn’t have, after everything that had happened to them.
But they had each other back, at least for a little while.
The best they could do was make it count.
“I think I should stay here a few days to properly recover before rejoining the Hunters,” Thalia decided, almost surprised at the ease with which the words left her mouth. The fox was dealt with. She could leave the world for other people to save—at least for a little while.
Jason immediately perked up. “I have a game on Friday, if you want to come watch,” he said softly, slightly muffled by her shoulder. “Only if you’re feeling well enough, though.”
“Stop trying to parent me. You may look older than me now, but I’m still the older sibling here,” she said, a smile spreading across her face. She squeezed his shoulders as tightly as her bruised body would allow. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
———
Notes:
-This is my first ever Thalia POV, which is a little scary! I do also realize that it’s kind of evil of me to write this instead of the Thalia and Jason hug I promise you of them reuniting post Leo’s little Orpheus maneuver, but this one fits well into my usual formula of getting a tough character into a situation where she’s forced to be a little vulnerable, so it felt like a less intimidating approach for my first proper Thalia focused fic!
-It also very nicely fit one of this week’s Riordanverse Flash Fic prompts, which I love!
-You will still be getting the other fic, I promise, but we’ll have to see when I get around to it!
-Also, the bit about loving Annabeth like a sister feeling like a betrayal of Jason’s memory and worrying about failing her the way she failed him goes specifically out to pjoTV Thalia, because I came up with the thought of her being tough on Annabeth specifically because of the way losing shaped her and she couldn't bear to lose another sibling, and I’ve wanted to do something about that ever since! I might actually also take a stab at the bit where tiny Annabeth gets captured sometime to go into the Jason of all that :)
POV: Thalia Grace in her childhood just trying to do her best.
I throw my stupid bag against the peeling wall of the closet. My room.
My mom lives outside of my room, on the queen bed. Yet most of the time we don’t really get the chance to talk to her since she's busy chasing the euphoria of drowning in her wallows. Or rather my brother and I smartly choose not to. One year old and absolutely precious is my brother. He has big baby blues and a smile that could make all the monsters in the world go away– honestly, if you looked at the two of us you wouldn’t be able to even tell that we were related with how dark my hair is.
I feed him, bathe him, and try to clothe him (when he doesn't run away) But right now I’m out of some of the supplies I need to take care of him. We have some leftover cans. I can start feeding him since I recently weaned him off of formula, but I need to get him baby wipes. I would sooner starve than have to deal with even more dirtiness.
When I open the door to my mom’s deplorable room I notice the big three: beer bottles, cigarettes, and a continuously playing TV. The two things she can afford to care about: her methods of losing herself in the moment, and her fame among Hollywood. And the one thing she gets off of from these methods: attention.
It’s a horrible drug that consumes her every being, her hair that she dyes blond, her eyelids that she paints blue and her smile that is always in a sick smile around male company. Every aspect of herself is designed for the goal of seeking attention from everyone, not even knowing how far she knew she could go.
I sneak out the front door hoping to make it to the food kitchen safe and in time.
The streets of Los Angeles are especially filthy at this time of night. Lurking with drug dealers and unfaithful men. I navigate through the alleys instead of the streets in order to get to the food pantry fast. It’s even worse in the alleys, with the horrible smell of urine and the strong smell of weed mixed together, the combination is unbearable. Thankfully, the path to the food pantry is short. I turn the corner and am greeted with the flickering lights of the food kitchen.
I open the door and make myself immediately search for Boone.
“Hey Boone,” I say, waving at him. Boone is a big man with a warm smile. He has helped me when my mom neglects my brother and I to run off with a man.
“Hello little Thalia, are you here for more food?”
“No… I actually have a little problem. I ran out of baby wipes for my brother, would you be able to lend me some?” I ask, nothing in the world hurts more than begging other people for things. And if it wasn’t for my little brother I wouldn’t have even formed a relationship with this man.
He responds with a knowing smile, “of course Thalia,” he says while taking out something from a box. “That’s why I’m here, to help people out.” He takes out two packages of baby wipes from the box and places them in my hand.
“Thanks Boone it means a lot to me, I’ll pay you back one day.” I repeat the phrase I say every time I ask him for something outside of the Kitchens’ means
It is true after all, without his help I wouldn’t have been able to feed Jason for the past two years.
“Any time kiddo,” Boone responds. And I can tell he really means it.
𝜗
Once I get home I head straight to the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. The same raggedy black hair and dirty face, my clothes are old and worn from overuse. Every look into the mirror reminds me of how different I am from my brother with his golden blond hair which is a practical halo around him. I use the bathroom and wash my face to refresh myself, and then head to put away the baby wipes.
I carefully head back to my room and wake up my brother from where I left him in the corner bundled with blankets and gently pick him up and guide him to the kitchen. He drowsily opens his eyes and nuzzles into my elbow. I place him on the dining room table and get to the kitchen to prepare his food. I rummage through the cabinet to pick out a can, preferably some soup for the weather lately. I turn on the stove and warm it up.
I put the soup in a bowl and head over to the kitchen table to feed my brother. It’s a hassle to feed him with how fussy he is, just too excited and mischievous to take a break. Lately, every time we eat he makes a point to grab everything and shove it straight into his mouth. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world–
The door creaked open.
And in came Beryl Grace with her comically puffed up hair dressed in a garish two-piece outfit with a cigarette in hand. Surprisingly, with no man on her hand.
“Aw my beautiful babies,” she slurred. “Come, make me some soup.”
I kept a careful eye on her, her lipstick was smudged and her clothes looked like they were half falling off. With her mood so good I could probably say she was with a man.
I gave Jason something to keep him occupied while I dealt with our mother.
“Of course mom, while you wash up I’ll warm up some more food for you.” I say
She went to sit on the dining table while I went to pick up Jason. He somehow got his hands on a stapler so I tried to pry it away from his hands.
“Why are you taking away my baby Jasonn,” she whined. “Come on, give him to me.” She said.
I reluctantly handed him over to her, with stapler in hand. There was nothing I could do against mom because if I somehow angered her she would become violent. And I couldn’t risk that with Jason.
I went back to the kitchen to warm up some more soup, “Ahh you two are actually pretty useful for once. Let's go on a picnic, we’ll see your guys’ father!”
My eyebrows furrowed and I focused on stirring the soup. Normally whenever I brought up the topic of dad mom would start yelling and screaming about how he abandoned us and is evil.
I remember the countless nights where I would come back from school to find shattered bottles on the floor and her old headshots strewn everywhere across the living room floor, while she stared at the tv repeating movie scenes where her minor character was in. Lamenting her unfortunate fate of being an unsuccessful movie star and being abandoned by the father of her children.
She would sob for hours, until noticing me. Then she would snap back to her old behavior, looking back at a mirror and touching up her face with old, stale makeup. “Make sure to clean the living room tonight Thalia. I’m going to leave for work soon.”
But… Maybe meeting our father would be a good thing. Mom won’t be angry anymore and I can finally meet dad–
A sudden breathless shriek came from the dining table.
I dropped the spoon I was using and rushed over. Mom moved to the living room and was chatting someone up on the phone, leaving Jason all alone.
Jason was sitting on the table, stapler gripped in his hand. His blue eyes welled up with tears and on his upper lip was a staple. It was swollen up in a horrible shade of red and a fat drop of blood was spreading all over the lower half of his face.
There was blood. So much blood.
He immediately tried to yank out the staple, even with all the pain he was going through.
I immediately jumped into action, taking a napkin with my shaking hands and pressing it into the wound. “No, no, no Jason. Shh… Tt’ll all be okay alright.” I said, whispering sweet nothings.
We couldn’t go to the hospital because that would be too expensive but if we let the injury fester it would lead to bigger problems. I turned to my mom for help.
She was still chatting away on the phone with a sweet voice. Safe to say there would be no help from her.
The only way I could take the stapler out is by using my bare hands. I try to take it out slowly and carefully, making sure not to cause extra pain where pain is not due. But my head is still dizzy when I see the prongs of the staple free themselves from his lip. I then patch the wound and treat Jason.
His tears have subsided but his face is now pale and his knuckles have a tight grip on my shirt. He’s too scared to be alone anymore.
My mom is still chatting away to someone who is probably scamming her with a role in a movie.
We’re getting out of here one day.
A/N: Hello everyone! Please leave comments down below on what you think of this, this is like the first fan fiction I've ever written.
Originally this was supposed to be a Jason Grace Fanfic with like 30 chapters but writing is HARD. It took me like three days to feel half confident about this and then decide to just make a one shot.
My plan was to write Jason calm and collected on the outside (when he's grownup) but have a deep insecure storm brewing on the inside, idk I feel like that fits him.
Also, feel free to send some requests because I want to start stretching my writing muscles, as long as its not smutty I'll probably be fine writing it.
